


The Absurd Theorem of Improbability

by claudiarya



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Angsty Feelings, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Death, Explosion of Powers, First Kiss, Gen, Graphic Depiction of Battles, Graphic Depiction of Corpses, Nikolai the King We Deserve, Nikolai's Monster Shows Up, Protective!Wife, Resurrection, Sad with a Happy Ending, Trust Issues, War, Zoya Goes Feral, Zoya is the Conduit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 07:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30135942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudiarya/pseuds/claudiarya
Summary: During the final Battle against the Shu- Han and the Fjierdans, difficult decisions must be made to save Ravka.Is Zoya willing to sacrifice everything as she thought she was?From the text:"Where are you? This litany had been invading her thoughts ever since they had departed from one another, not so graciously – if their screaming match had been of any indication – right before the battle."
Relationships: Mentions of Genya/David, Mentions of Nina/Hanne, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, Zoyalai - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	The Absurd Theorem of Improbability

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clary1835](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clary1835/gifts), [laurore_stormwitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurore_stormwitch/gifts).



> Hello there!  
> So, yeah, this was supposed to be a short drabble and as I started writing it, it turned out to be a longish One-Shot. In my RoW frenzy, I've started picturing different scenarios, and this one had stuck with me ever since it has entered my mind.  
> I really hope I did these characters justice, as I found quite challenging writing Zoya and Nikolai, despite my immense love for them.  
> I would like to thank my two awesome friends for the support and inspiration, I love you!
> 
> Please be mindful of the tags, as there are depictions of death, blood and battle!
> 
> English is not my first language, so I apologize if something will feel off. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated
> 
> Without further ado: ENJOY!

Zoya reached out with her arms again, sending a gush of wind towards the soldiers surrounding them, the air charged with crackling thunders all around her. A deity with the semblance of a girl.

She was breathing hard, her hair coming away in loose strands from where she had tied it at her nape in a practical coil. How many hours ago had the battle started? 

Surely, things weren’t exactly for the better for them. The numbers of the Fjerdan and Shu army too great for them. And still they had marched on, as the soldiers they’ve been raised to be.

To the General it felt as if she had been dropped into a parallel universe: she had been fighting all her life, ever since she was a little girl, but this, this was different. Every draw of air was unbearable. Her lungs were screaming, and she thought that every breath would be her last. Zoya could feel her movement becoming more sluggish as time passed. How much longer could she keep this up?

_No_ , she thought reprimanding herself. _You’re not giving up. You’re not allowed to give up. These people, your country, they are counting on you!_

Ever since Juris had disappeared, she had been lonely, more than ever. She missed him in her head, as absurd as it may sound. With a yell, she released a surge of fire, scattering another group of soldiers. She couldn’t tell if they were Fjerdan or Shu, or both, she had stopped paying attention to that, her mind only recognizing automatically the members of the First and Second Army so not to hit them with her powers.

When Zoya had dispatched of the people surrounding her, she frantically looked around to see if she could help others. Distantly she saw the latest inventions of David, and if she was not mistaken, she saw a blur of red. Genya. At least, she knew that she was, for now, safe beside her husband.

Turning again, she spotted Nina and the Fjerdan girl with auburn hair, fighting back-to-back. Both unlashing the power of death, but in such a different way. One literally commanding an army of fallen soldiers, their bodies responding to her will, the other stopping hearts even if she could see that was taking a toll on her, since she was a Healer.

Zoya looked down, seeing so many young Grisha lying on the ground. Dead.

_Some years ago, it could have been me. It could have been me lying dead on the ground._

She swore that if she was going to survive this, she was going to teach the students at the Little Palace how to embrace the Little Science as it was. She was going to show them how all Grisha could use indiscriminately the force of the Making at the Heart of the World. They would never have to be powerless. Not ever again.

Other members of the Second Army were standing all around her, some faces were of strangers, some more familiar.

But one was missing, one she had realized, she had been searching for all this time. _His_ face. Nikolai’s.

 _Where are you?_ This litany had been invading her thoughts ever since they had departed from one another, not so graciously – if their screaming match had been of any indication – right before the battle.

It had been a couple of rough months for both of them. With the war and his marriage to Ehri, something in their relationship was like it was broken. The light banter, small gestures and confidences had disappeared, leaving space only for tension and at times contempt. She had tried just to act as a General serving her King, but they both knew they couldn’t keep up with the pretense for much longer. It had eaten them alive, slowly eroding the trust they had built through the years.

 _Where are you, where are you, where are you?_ Her mind repeated in a loop.

Another soldier approached her. Big, blonde stern. Fjerdan. She easily sent him flying from her with the slightest movement of her hand. She barely registered the _thump_ he made as he had crashed on the ground.

She didn’t have time for this, she needed to find Nikolai, be by his side. She needed to know that he hadn’t really gone through with his plan.

***

“You can’t be serious,” she had accused him, yelling. Searching his eyes, as if believing that he would come around and tell her it was all a big joke, she didn’t need to worry. But she found none.

“I’ve never been more serious, Zoya”

“You can’t do this,” her voice had broken in a desperate whisper. “How can you do this, after everything that _He_ has done.”

She couldn’t believe her ears; how could he even remotely think about doing this? How could he easily give himself up to be used as the Darkling puppet. Hadn’t the megalomaniac done enough already? How could he bear to unleash the beast inside of him, when all they had tried to do in all those years had been to suppress it?

“It’s the only way, and you know it.” He had replied, as calm and practical as ever.

For once Zoya wished he could drop the façade of perfect ruler and show more concern for his impending future. But there he had stayed, his hazel eyes boring straight into hers. Not an ounce of fear nor regret.

“I won’t let you go through this, I can’t.” She had affirmed, reaching out slightly with her arms as if she wanted to physically some sense into him.

“You can, and you will. This is an order, Commander Nazyalensky.”

Nikolai’s words had hit her almost as a slap to the face. He never pulled rank on her, but here he was, unshakable. A true King.

“And what is to become of Ravka if you die. Have you thought about that, Nikolai? In your master plan to get yourself killed, have you considered the future of your country?” Zoya had asked him.

“Don’t you understand, Zoya. If I don’t do this, there won’t be a country to rule over anymore.” His eyes were conveying all the turmoil it was stirring inside. It was the closest thing to a plead she would ever get from him. Yet, as ruthlessly as ever she had turned to him at the entrance of the tent.

“You once promised you would come for Ravka, for us… for me. But now I see you can’t even do that.”

Then she had left, not trusting herself, or the desperation that threatened to overwhelm her. She wished that she could have followed her feelings. Just this once.

***

 _Where are you?_ She thought again, growing more panicked by the second. He couldn’t be too far. He was supposed to cover the right flank, the elevated terrain in the part of the battlefield, a high ground of sorts against their enemies. The battle seemed to rage on incessantly as she staggered towards the direction of the King. She couldn’t really tell in favor of which side the scales were tipping, everything was becoming blurry.

As she scanned around her, Zoya saw something. There, not too far away from her, against the cloudy sky, a winged figure was screeching as it dropped a body from his clutches. Not even seconds later, it dived again onto the mass of soldiers below them.

So, he had done it. And she hadn’t done anything to stop him. Nothing.

Her mounting horror glued her to the spot. Zoya watched on as the monster that had been her Nikolai merely hours before, brought havoc in its wake. Nothing seemed to slow it down, despite the numerous objects thrown its way. Relief was taking the place of horror. The monster/ Nikolai could do it. 

She was going to reach his side, help him fight, and then they would deal with the monster as they always did.

When she broke into a run, her gaze never leaving the dark spot in the air, Zoya saw her world tilt under her feet, arresting her again.

It all happened so fast. As the monster was lowering itself onto the soldiers, something had struck him, right in its chest. Right where Elizaveta’s thorn had been planted.

No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. It was just a nightmare.

Who could have done it? Who could know how to take the beast down? 

On the corner Zoya saw a man, his resemblance with Nikolai uncanny. It was Magnus Opjer, standing straight with a big crossbow in hand.

So, he was the one who had shot the arrow. He was the one who had struck his own son to the heart. Zoya roared, and a lightening bolt, landed near where the man stood, striking him out of his feet. How could he know? Had he been betrayed?

Everything seemed to freeze for an instant, as the body of the monster plummeted to the ground. With every inch it fell, the monster seemed to leave its occupant. It was now Nikolai who was about to crash land.

With a desperate shriek, Zoya reached out, trying to slow his drop.

Could she make it? She was exhausted, spent.

No. she had to. She was the dragon the dragon after all.

Despite her distance, it seemed that her current of air had at least prevented him from getting killed on impact.

The next second, Zoya had hurled herself in the sky and got to him. He was with his face down. He was not moving, and he was bleeding from the sort of spear that had pierced the monster’s heart. She didn’t have any time to lose, she had to go to him, help him!

A conspicuous number of soldiers was still nearby, and when a little group of three people tried to advance on her, Zoya felt her power come to her, stronger than ever. It was like it had a will of its on, un uncontrolled fury that almost blinded her. She brought a hand up before slamming it on the ground with force. Her power exploded: Vortexes of wind, fire, air and lightening, razing the soldiers in their passage.

Making sure no one was standing in her way; she rushed the last meters separating her from Nikolai.

Collapsing on her knees, Zoya reached for him, turning him so he was facing up, now.

His beautiful face was caked with blood and dirt. His eyes were closed, his body unmoving. His hands, black giving away into black swirls visible through his torn shirt. With a grunt, she yanked his body up, as if she was embracing him, and then she removed the remaining part of the arrow protruding from his chest. When she had taken the piece of wood out, she realized he had cracked his eyes slight open.

Nikolai glanced at her, his wheezing breath shallow.

“Zoya,” he whispered, reaching up with a trembling arm towards her face. Zoya seized his wrist gently and brought his hand to cup her face.

“My ruthless Zoya.”

“I’m here, Nikolai. I’m here.” She told him, as she felt a sob ripping out from her chest.

“I – I have been a fool, Zoya. You were right.” Nikolai’s eyes closed again, perhaps a sign of what was going to happen.

“You did what you had to do. Ravka would have been lost without you.”

“I’m sorry Zoya, I’m –” but he never finished the sentence.

His arm went limp, and it dropped right back at his side.

“Nikolai,” her voice broke while saying his name.

No, this couldn’t be happening. She refused to see another person she cared about, _the_ person she loved leave her.

“Nikolai, no. Don’t give up. You’ve never given up on anything in your life. You can’t leave me.” She begged, tears cascading copiously down her face.

“Not you, too.”

In that moment she regretted the fact that she had never told him how much he meant to her, that without realizing it he had become one of her only constants in her life. That she was afraid of all the things he made her feel, and that was why she had always closed herself, running away.

Zoya burrowed her head on his chest, still glistening with blood. 

This was a nightmare. It wasn’t happening. It had all happened because of this war, because of the senseless hate.

Zoya felt all her anger, all her worry, all those emotions she had been so keen to suppress in the last months, in the last years, throughout her life resurfacing with the force of a tidal wave, transforming into power at her fingertips.

In a desperate attempt, she placed her hand over his heart, and closing her eyes she concentrated on her feelings.

Images of him, of the time spent in his company flooded her mind. Their late nights spent together over maps and making up strategies. His blonde hair glinting in the light of the fireplace, hazel eyes watching her with intent. The sensations she had felt when their hands would graze, every time she locked him to bed. His kindness, his pure heart, the way he would put the sake of his friends and his country before everything else.

Zoya channeled all of that, letting it flow, through her.

 _You are the conduit_ Juris had told her.

 _Please_ , she pleaded. _Please give me the strength to save me._ She found herself praying, begging the Saints, anyone, as she hadn’t done in such a long time, as she hadn’t done ever since her only family had been taken away from her, swallowed by darkness.

Time passed, Zoya wasn’t sure how much, and she started to believe that what she was doing was useless. With her eyes closed, she didn’t realize that the black veins marring his arms, his hands, had started receding, as if it was mere ink dissolving with water.

Then, a soft gasp, the smallest intake of air.

The girl looked up and blue met hazel.

Nikolai’s eyes were wide open, and they were staring at her.

“Nikolai,” she breathed out, still in shock.

Had she made it? Was she the one who had brought him back?

“It’s impossible,” the Grisha exclaimed, not believing that this time she had made it, this time she had saved him.

“Improbable.” He muttered, a tired, but happy grin illuminating his beautiful face.

For once in her life, Zoya let herself be guided by her own instincts. She threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight, as she cried and laughed simultaneously.

“Zoya,” Nikolai said into her hair, wincing a bit at the force of her embrace.

“You were dead. I watched you die.”

“But you saved me. You saved me. You were strong enough to do it. You have always been.” He said, pushing her lightly away from him, so he could look at her better.

His hand found her extraordinary face again, his thumb caressing her cheek lightly. 

“Zoya, how could I ever rep –” Nikolai started, but before he was able to finish his sentence, Zoya’s lips had found his. Shocked as he was, and still half-dead, Nikolai didn’t immediately return the kiss.

Waking from the shock that this was actually happening, he closed his eyes as well and leaned into her. The sensation of her chapped mouth against his, was exhilarating, exciting, right. His palm slipped up to the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss. His heart that had gone cold mere minutes ago was now thrumming furiously in his chest, spreading a warm sensation to all his body.

Surely, he had died, because there was no way Zoya would kiss him.

With a last peck of their lips, she drew back, her blue pools searching his hazel ones.

“If dying and coming back to life was all it took, for you to kiss me, I should’ve tried it a long time ago.” Nikolai exclaimed, eyes still not leaving her.

Zoya looked at him for a split second and then, wonders of wonders, she started laughing, head tilted slightly back.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, still smiling.

Of all the _improbable_ things he had witnessed today, and experienced for himself, Zoya Nazyalensky’s laughter was without the shadow of a doubt the most magical of them all.

And still the war waged on.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading!  
> I honestly can't wait to read Rule of Wolves. The waiting is slowly driving me crazy, thank the Saints for the crumbs the show is giving us. 
> 
> I have a Tumblr and Twitter account. If you feel like it come and say hi!
> 
> Tumblr: @/ claudiarya  
> Twitter: @/ claudiarya1
> 
> Thank you again and have a great day!


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